What Makes a King
by Bundibird
Summary: Set just after 1x11, The Labyrinth of Gedref. Merlin is less than pleased with Arthur's actions with the whole goblet business, and he's never really been one to hold back what's on his mind. Oneshot.


_**AN**_**: Post 01x11, **_**The Labyrinth of Gedref. **_**Because I know I would have been cross with Arthur if I were Merlin. I wrote this AGES ago, but never posted it. And then I watched 01x11 again recently and was reinspired. **

_**Disclaimer**_**: I own nothing you recognise. **

**...**

_**What Makes a King**_

**...**

Arthur came to slowly, becoming gradually more aware of a bright light glaring through his eyelids.

He grumbled unintelligently and raised a sluggish hand to shield his eyes as he rolled over, only to find a rock or something digging into the small of his back.

Arthur growled lightly and rolled to his other side, but now there was something hard and pointy digging into his ribs. Actually… there were _things_ digging into him at all points. Now that he was awake (and becoming _more_ awake every second), he realised that he was really quite uncomfortable.

"What the _hell_ am I lying on?" he growled crossly, rolling up into a sitting position and scrubbing at his eyes with one hand.

"Oh good. You're awake."

Arthur jumped violently as Merlin's voice sounded from right beside him.

"_Mer_-lin," he groused irritably once he'd recovered, looking up and glaring at the young man, drawing his name out into two long exasperated syllables. He was fully intending on berating the servant for he-wasn't-sure-what-yet, and demanding that he fix whatever the hell was wrong with his mattress, but then he saw the tall green hedge behind Merlin's head, and he shut his mouth with an audible click and cocked his head to the side, confused.

Before Arthur could open his mouth to ask why on earth he was sleeping outside, Merlin knelt down next to the disoriented Prince and put one hand to his forehead.

"Are you ok?" Merlin asked urgently, peering into Arthur's eyes and checking his pulse and trying to decide if his temperature was at an acceptable level or not.

Arthur swatted the mother hen away irritatedly. "Of course I'm alright, why wouldn't I be?" he snapped, rolling away from the hovering man servant and clambering to his feet. "And why am I sleeping outside?"

Merlin looked confused. "Because… because of Anhora," he said uncertainly. "You… don't remember?"

And of course, the second Merlin said the words, Arthur did remember.

He jerked around suddenly, his hand flying to his sword hip as he scanned the hedges and the beach for the Guardian of the Unicorns.

"Where is he?" he asked Merlin urgently, eyes still scanning the area. "Did he lift the curse yet? Did I pass the – _wait_!" Arthur froze suddenly, apparently only just realising the fact that he didn't appear to be dead. His hands shot up to his torso and patted their way across his chest, arms and face, checking to see if he was really solid.

"What happened?" he demanded of Merlin. "Am I dead? Why am I still at the maze? So much for the afterlife – this doesn't feel any different. And why – hang on… why are _you _here? Did he… _did he kill __both__ of us!"_ Arthur yelped, clearly outraged and obviously still not caught up on recent events. "Smarmy son of a…" Arthur muttered, furious, and before Merlin could blink Arthur had his sword out and was marching back towards the maze entrance, clearly intent on finding the Guardian and dishing out some justice.

How exactly Arthur planned to do this, Merlin wasn't sure, as Arthur was apparently of the opinion that they were both dead, and dead people are hardly capable of dishing justice out to living people, but Merlin didn't bother dwelling on these thoughts as he darted after the Prince before Arthur got lost in the maze.

"Woah – Arthur, wait! We're not dead – the Guardian lied to us. It was a sleeping draught in the goblet, not poison."

Arthur paused and turned to look at Merlin in confusion. "A sleeping draught?" he questioned.

"Yes," Merlin replied, his patience waning a little. "He wanted to test your valour – to test whether or not you'd let someone else take the fall for one of your mistakes."

Arthur frowned, trying to catch up. "So… we're not dead then?"

"No," Merlin replied, relieved that Arthur was finally catching on.

"Oh." Arthur was quiet for a moment as he processed this information. "Well, good then," he said finally, grinning triumphantly, as though he was somehow to thank for the whole thing.

Merlin rolled his eyes.

"Yes, 'good.'" He said, turning away and walking to where he had tethered their two horses. "Now can we please head back to the castle? We've got a fair distance to cover, and I don't know about you but _I_ want to be somewhere warm before dark."

Arthur laughed, still riding the high that came from finding out that he wasn't actually dead after all. "In a hurry are we?" he asked cheerfully, laughter permeating his tone.

Merlin turned around and crossed his arms petulantly, irritated by the Prince's attitude. "Yes, actually. I've been waiting three hours for you to wake up, and I don't know if you've yet noticed the freezing wind that's coming in off the ocean that's been blowing at me the entire time. And unlike some, _I_ didn't have the pleasure of sleeping all that time away. I'm cold, I'm sore, I'm tired, and I'm hungry. And I'd like to get home before I get even _more_ cold, sore, tired and hungry."

The grin slid off Arthur's face as concern doused his features.

"Are you alright Merlin?" he asked, having clearly not heard the 'cold, sore, tired, hungry' comment. "What's the matter?"

Merlin opened his mouth to respond, then shut it again, turning back to the horses to check the girth straps again. "Nothing," he said shortly.

Arthur frowned at his servant's back. Merlin truly was a dreadful liar. "Merlin," Arthur said warningly, walking forwards and standing at the head of the horse Merlin was readying. "What…is…wrong?"

"Nothing!" Merlin replied, more forcefully this time, but still refusing to look Arthur in the eye. Arthur was getting impatient.

"_Mer_lin. Look at me and tell me what's…" he started to order, before a thought struck him. "Are you mad at me?" he asked, surprise colouring his voice.

Merlin said nothing, which said everything really.

"You are!" Arthur crowed, not sure whether or not to laugh. "You're mad at me!"

Merlin remained focussed on a buckle on the horse's saddle, studiously looking anywhere but at Arthur.

"Ok," Arthur said, folding his arms and fighting a smile. "Tell me. What did I do to make you angry, Merlin?"

The taunting voice did it's work, and Merlin spun to face Arthur angrily.

"You really need to ask?" he demanded, glaring.

"Apparently," came the cheerful response.

"Fine," Merlin seethed, his jaw clenching as he faced Arthur more fully so as to better deliver his lecture. "What were you _thinking?"_

Arthur raised an eyebrow, waiting for more information.

"In regards to...?" he prompted, when Merlin didn't continue.

"You're the Crowned Prince of Camelot!" Merlin practically exploded. "The _sole_ heir to Uther's throne – the only one with the right, the public opinion and the knowledge of how to run this country after Uther passes. And you would toss your duty aside, just like that?"

Arthur was beginning to catch on.

"If this is about the goblet..."

"Of _course_ it's about the goblet, Arthur! What were you thinking?"

"I believe I was thinking it was the only way to save my country," Arthur said dryly. "You recall, I presume, that Camelot was in the grip of a vengeance curse before I drank from the goblet?"

"Of course I remember, Arthur, but it needn't have been _you_ that died –"

"No one _died_, Merlin, you can see that for yourself," Arthur cut in, his good humour gone and his temper starting to rise. "And as for it not being me who drank it – didn't you say just now that the guardian was testing my valour? If I had let you drink it, I would have failed the test and Camelot would be doomed. The way I see it, I did exactly as my duty to Camelot demands."

"But we didn't know at the time that that's what the guardian was testing for," Merlin argued. "All we knew is that someone had to die as payment for the unicorn's death, and that someone should most definitely _not_ have been you!"

Arthur stared at Merlin incredulously.

"One," he said firmly, "that would have defeated the purpose of the test and I would have failed, and two, what does it matter anyway – it wasn't actually poison!"

"But we didn't know that at the time!" Merlin yelled, frustrated.

"...I'm not seeing your point here, Merlin," Arthur said after a pause, and Merlin huffed in irritation.

"My point is – _this _time, it wasn't poison. _This _time, the whole point of the exercise was that you drink it. But if there's a next time... If there's a next time, you can't let it be you! Camelot would fall to pieces without you, Arthur. Even if your father does live an extraordinarily long life, who would take his place when the time came? There would be no one, and the country would be in total disarray. Nobles and Lords and the like would fight for the kingship – Camelot would tear itself apart trying to pick the next king. Not to mention all the other countries that would invade us at the slightest whisper of weakness!"

Arthur stared at Merlin, slightly incredulously.

"You've really thought about this, haven't you?"

"For over three hours straight, yes."

Arthur sighed. "Merlin – I see your point. Really – I do. And, if the situation were reversed I'd be mad at me too. But I really don't see what else I could have done. I refuse to let someone else take the blame for one of my mistakes. Call it a character fault if you will, but I won't do it. Maybe I would have in the past, but not now."

Merlin glowered. "So I'm supposed to just let you die because you stuffed up?"

Arthur grinned. "Or you could make it your job to make sure I never stuff up."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Now _there's_ a battle that's lost before it's started."

Arthur laughed outright at that and clapped Merlin on the shoulder.

"You're lucky I'm the only one around to hear you talking to me like that," he said, then reached to untie his horse. "Now – are you ready to go yet? I'm cold, tired, hungry, and rather a bit sore after lying on those rocks for so long. I want to be somewhere warm before dark."

And with an easy grin thrown over his shoulder in the direction of his balefully glaring servant, Arthur mounted up and set off for home, trusting that Merlin would catch up.

...

**AN: I do love a good review!**

**Bundi**


End file.
